


Bound

by annamvolt



Series: Yanna Shepard [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-22 16:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15586053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annamvolt/pseuds/annamvolt
Summary: Some souls have a way of drifting towards each other, as if they’re somehow bound together. So seems to be the case for Yanna Shepard and Jeff “Joker” Moreau, who always seem to find each other… even against all odds.





	Bound

  1. **April 11, 2172, Arcturus Space Station**



Yanna returned to her and her parents’ living quarters after spending most of the day at Alliance Entrance Processing. She didn’t find her mother or father there, as she expected; instead, there was a thin, tall boy with messy brown hair in the middle of the small living room. He was snooping around the room with the support of his cane.

                “Expecting someone, Jeff?” Yanna joked, startling the boy, who spun on his heel.

                “Don’t scare me like that,” he complained. “You’re finally back. It only took you forever. Is it done?”

                “Yep. I’m officially an Alliance recruit,” Yanna replied bright-eyed.

                “Congratulations,” said Jeff with a genuine smile. “And happy birthday, too. Here.” He handed her a small packet.

                “What’s that?”

                “A gift, duh,” the seventeen-year-old boy said as he took a seat on the couch and set his cane on the coffee table.

                The corners of Yanna’s lips curled upwards in joy. She sat down next to her friend and started to unwrap the packet excitedly. Beside her, Jeff anxiously fiddled with his fingers. It seemed he was nervous about Yanna liking his gift.

                When the last layer of wrapping paper was finally gone – god, you’d think Jeff was hiding the universe’s secrets in this packet, so much wrapping paper he’d used – Yanna held up a long chain with a silver hoop hanging from it. On closer inspection however, she realized that what she thought was a mere hoop, was actually a snake eating its own tail.

                “I wanted to give you something meaningful, so I did some homework,” Jeff admitted, cheeks blushing. “It’s called a ouroboros. It symbolizes the cyclic nature of the universe, renewal, rebirth. It’s even supposed to represent the Milky Way.”

                Yanna slipped the chain over her head and touched the ouroboros that now rested over her chest.

                “It’s so beautiful, Jeff. Thank you.” She planted a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to flush red again.

                “Uhh, no biggie. So, when do you leave?” Jeff rushed to change the subject, looking away in a futile attempt to hide his rose red cheeks and smiling eyes.

                Yanna bit her lip, hoping her friend would take the news well. “Tomorrow morning,” she let the words fall out of her mouth. “I start training immediately.”

                “So soon?” The boy was clearly taken aback; he probably expected to have some time to say a proper goodbye. So had Yanna, but she’d take what she could get.

                “Yeah. I don’t know. I guess they’re in a real hurry for biotic soldiers.” Yanna shrugged.

                “Makes sense. Moving crap with your mind? Sounds like an advantage in combat to me.” They both chuckled. “Anyway. This is like, the beginning of the rest of your life, man. Good luck. And don’t forget your old pal Moreau, eh? First shore leave you get, promise you’ll visit me.”

                “As long as you promise to kick ass in flying school.” Yanna retorted, giving her friend a careful, light nudge in the ribs.

                “Ow! Watch it!” Jeff exclaimed melodramatically.

                “Don’t be such a drama queen, Moreau.”

**I.** **2183, Arcturus Space Station**

Captain David Anderson led the way through the innovative starship that was the fruit of combined human and turian labors; the SSV _Normandy_ SR-1. Yanna Shepard followed directly behind him, observing her surroundings and introducing herself to the rest of the crew. She carried herself with pride and confidence, but in reality she felt quite anxious and she found it especially jarring that there was nobody in the ship who didn’t already know who she was. Even more so because it wasn’t for any feat of hers; rather, it was because she was lucky enough to outlive her entire unit on Akuze.

                Anderson led her to the bridge. A man was sitting at the helm.

                “And here, we have our infamous helmsman,” Anderson started. The man got out of his seat with obvious difficulty and saluted. “Joker, this is your executive officer—”

                The man’s brows widened at the sight. “Yanna Shepard,” he realized.

                For a moment, Yanna was exasperated, thinking this was another guy about to laud her for the courage and ability she demonstrated on Akuze. But then, she put two and two together—the limping, those green-grey eyes, the eternally messy brown hair—and her heart skipped a beat or two.

                “Jeff Moreau?” she uttered in disbelief.

                “I… take it you two already know each other,” the commander noted. “Well. I’ll leave you to catch up. Shepard, when you’re done, join me at the CIC.”

                Anderson left, but it took the two old friends half a minute to collect their thoughts.

                “What is it, Shepard? Cat got your tongue?” Jeff teased her.

                “I… I don’t know what to say. You’re _here_.” Yanna still couldn’t believe it was really him standing in front of her. “Hold on a sec… so _you’re_ the guy who stole the _Normandy_ to make a point?!”

                “Damn right I am,” Jeff said with a smug grin. He was obviously very proud of himself. “Been a long time, Yanna.”

                “A decade,” the woman sighed.

                “More or less.”

                Yanna’d made good on her promise to visit him on her first shore leave, all those years back. But after that, they just kind of… drifted apart. Jeff went to flight school, Yanna was on active duty, then came ICT, Akuze… And contact between them just became less and less frequent, until it stopped entirely. Now, seeing her friend all grown up, a pilot in the Alliance as he dreamt of being even as a teenager, Yanna felt some remorse that she didn’t get to be on his side during these years; during adulthood, during his achievements. Jeff wasn’t the scrawny, nerdy boy she remembered anymore; he was a grown man (and admittedly a rather good-looking one, at that)—hell, he even had a beard now, and back then the most facial hair he could grow out was a prepubescent mustache. Yanna couldn’t help but smile at that last thought.

                “So, what’s that Joker thing about?” she questioned.

                Jeff sighed. “Nickname from the academy. I didn’t smile a lot. It stuck.”

                “Well, if you’re still anything like the dork _I_ used to know, it sure fits you.”

                “I’m not a dork,” Jeff protested. “Neither was I ever. I think.”

                Yanna smirked at him. “I’m really glad you made it, Jeff,” she said earnestly. “Joker,” she corrected herself with a chuckle.

                “It’s good to see you too, XO.” Jeff hesitated, as though he wasn’t sure how to address or speak to Yanna. After all, things had changed; the last time they saw each other, they were still teenagers. Now they were adults and Yanna was, in fact, his superior. After a few moments of lingering, Jeff shook her hand firmly before returning to his seat.

                Heading off to find Commander Anderson, Yanna brought a hand to her chest. She felt the ouroboros under her shirt, where it had resided for a big part of the past eleven years. Some things hadn’t changed for her.

 

  1. **2183, SSV Normandy SR-1, Omega Nebula, Terminus Systems**



Yanna raced through the ship’s hallways with her breath caught in her throat. Every time a blast rattled the _Normandy_ , her heart dropped to her stomach; she stumbled, and tripped, and fell, yet she kept on running, scared not for her own life, but for Joker’s.

                She basically had to order Kaidan to get himself onto the escape pods with the rest of the crew. She already knew she was going to have to practically pry Joker out of the cockpit.

                She ran into the CIC and chills went down her spine. The roof was completely gone; the remains of the CIC were doused by the light of a nearby moon, and debris was flying everywhere. She made her way through the dead bodies and destroyed equipment as fast as she could. Sure enough, Joker was at the helm; behind him, XO Pressly and one of the ensigns—Talitha was her name—were lying in a small pool of their own blood.

“Come on, Joker! We have to get out of here,” Yanna cried out.

                “No! I won’t abandon the _Normandy_! I can still save her!” Joker protested, not taking his eyes off the console in front of him.

                “The _Normandy’s_ lost. Going down with the ship won’t change that!” Yanna shouted in a desperate attempt to reason with the man. Leaning over, she grabbed his shoulder firmly. “No ship matters more than your goddamn life, Jeff.”

                Joker sighed in defeat. “Yeah… okay. Help me up,” he finally gave in. His eyes darted to the scanner as he tried to raise himself to his feet; Yanna’s eyes followed immediately. “They’re coming around for another attack!” Joker exclaimed, returning to the console.

                A laser beam went right through the bridge, violently ripping it in half. They had to get out, _now_. There was no time for arguments. Shepard grabbed Joker’s arm, causing him to gasp, as she forced him out of his seat and threw his arm over her shoulders, supporting him. Behind them, explosions were sounding off; sparks and debris were flying everywhere.

                Shepard hauled Joker’s ass to the escape pod and shoved him inside, as the unknown attacker continued to burn through whatever was left of the _Normandy_. Suddenly a blast knocked Shepard into the wall and away from the pod; she cried out, feeling the force of gravity tug at her as she held onto the wall with all her remaining strength. “Commander!” she heard Joker’s cry, and they shared a look through their helmets, as the laser ripped through between them.

                Yanna made the grim realization that there was no time for her—but there still was for Joker. Her eyes darted to the glowing button on the wall in front of her; if Joker wasn’t going to launch the escape pod, she’d have to do it herself.

                “Shepard!” Joker’s piercing scream echoed inside Yanna’s helmet, as she slammed on the button; the shuttle door slid shut in front of the man’s eyes, his commander and dear friend disappearing from his view forever. Joker shrieked until his throat was raw—but to no avail, as nobody could hear him anymore, not even Shepard.

                Yanna floated helplessly for a few moments until another blast tossed her out of the ship like a ragdoll. She watched the _Normandy_ blow into pieces as the laser continued to rip through it—she wanted to cry out, to yell at the enemy to stop attacking, they were all gone, the _Normandy_ was done for—yet they kept and kept on going, as if they wanted to make sure not one piece of the starship remained intact. The continuous explosions looked like fireworks in the void, until a last explosion, loud and bright like the big bang, marked the end of the attack—as well as the SSV _Normandy_ SR-1.

                Yanna suddenly realized it was getting harder and harder for her to breathe. Her eyes started burning with tears of fear and despair, as it dawned on her that her suit’s pressure seals were compromised. She was dying; that much was certain now. The lady of luck couldn’t save her this time, as she’d often done before. Yanna could only hope to suffocate to death, rather than survive long enough to burn alive upon entering the atmosphere of the planet below.

                In the few moments left between life and death, Yanna couldn’t help but think of her friends and loved ones. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of them—and especially Kaidan—finding out about her death.

                Looking up for a sign of the escape pod Joker was in, she wished that he was going to be okay. 

                Inside the pod, Joker was safe and sound—but he was far, far from okay.

**  
**

**II. 2185, Lazarus Research Station**

 

                Yanna was left in the dark room, all by herself, pondering the Illusive Man’s words. She usually found it easy to adapt to new circumstances, but this time it was all… too much. The last thing she remembered was dying in space, slowly and agonizingly, and now she wakes up to find out a questionable organization put her back together, so she’ll investigate colony abductions that might be connected to the Reapers?

                “Hey, Commander.” A man’s voice sounded off from behind her, and she almost jumped; not so much because she was startled, but because she knew the voice all too well. “Just like old times, huh?”

                Yanna exhaled deeply with relief and joy, as she ran towards Joker and took him into her arms.

                “Hey, hey, hey now. Watch it.” The man joked, but returned the embrace with little hesitance. Yanna breathed shakily. It felt so good to see a familiar face right now. Let alone his. She needed it. “Come on. There’s something you need to see,” Joker said, gently pushing his friend away.

                Looking into his eyes, Yanna thought they seemed a little red. Was he tearful? Then she noticed another thing; Joker was wearing a cap, but it wasn’t his old SR-1 one. Strangely, the cap sported Cerberus colors and the letters… SR-2.

                Yanna curiously followed her friend down some halls. She was hanging behind him, examining her surroundings, still not knowing what to make of the latest events. At the same time, she observed Joker; he was limping as always, but didn’t have his cane or crutch with him.  He otherwise looked fine, however, which was a big relief considering the circumstances they parted under.

                “I can’t believe it’s you, Joker,” she said, still in awe.

                “Look who’s talking. I saw you get spaced,” Joker retorted, making a turn down another hallway. He masterly avoided looking Yanna in the eyes. She knew him well enough to tell he didn’t want her to know how he really felt about her getting spaced.

                “Got lucky, with a lot of strings attached,” Yanna said with a shrug. “How’d you get here?” she asked as they went up some stairs. Joker held onto the rails; the stairs were clearly quite a struggle for him, but he obviously didn’t want to make a deal out of it. Yanna knew by now not to offer help; if he wanted it, he’d ask for it.

                “It all fell apart without you, Commander. Everything you stirred up, the Council just wanted it gone. Team was broken up, records sealed, and I was grounded.” He sounded bitter, maybe even a little angry. “The Alliance took away the only thing that mattered to me. Hell yeah I joined Cerberus.”

                Yanna hesitated. “You really trust the Illusive Man?” she asked for her friend’s opinion as they reached a deck with an enormous window. Peeking out, she couldn’t make out anything; it was pitch dark outside.

                “I don’t trust anyone who makes more than I do. But they aren’t all bad. Saved your life. Let me fly—” Joker eyed Yanna, whose hands were perched on her thighs commandingly. “And there’s this. They only told me last night.”

                Eyebrows furrowed with curiosity, Yanna turned to the dark window. Lights started to come on, one by one, revealing a huge starship that flew Cerberus colors—and looked hauntingly similar to the _Normandy_ SR-1.

                Yanna’s hands dropped from her thighs, her stiff posture relaxing in astonishment, if not disbelief.

                “It’s good to be home, huh, Commander?” Joker said, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the starship before them. The sight was so nostalgic, Yanna could barely hold tears back.

                “I guess we’ll have to give her a name,” she said, voice low and soft.

                Joker smiled tenderly as he took off his brand new SR-2 cap and set it on Shepard’s head. He gazed at her, still unable to grasp the fact that it really was her standing right beside him. God… there was no telling how much he’d really missed her. Whether he trusted Cerberus or not was completely irrelevant right now. They managed to bring her back to life, and that was all the reason Joker needed to follow them.

  1. **2187, SSV Normandy SR-2, Sol System**



                “All fleets! The Crucible is armed. Disengage and head to the rendezvous point,” came Admiral Hackett’s stern voice through the comm.

                Joker scrambled with the controls on the console, desperately looking for a sign of Shepard on the scanner, or a message from her on the radio. The Crucible was pulsing; they had mere minutes or even just seconds before it launched, but Joker insisted. The signals were already getting jumbled because of the Crucible’s energy; Shepard could’ve been trying to contact him, but her messages might not be getting through to Joker. 

                He could feel Liara and Samantha’s presences behind him, staring down at him as he tried and tried to locate Shepard. Liara approached him, touched his arm—Joker snapped, pushing her hand away and immediately returning to the console.

                “I repeat: Disengage and get the hell out of here!” Hackett’s voice insisted urgently over the radio.

                Joker felt Liara’s hand on his arm again. This time, he froze in his seat.

                “Jeff. “ His hand floated before the console for a second, before dropping, defeated. He felt the asari’s fingers caressing his arm sympathetically. “We need to go,” she said softly, but matter-of-factly.

                Joker hanged his head; his eyes stung with tears he tried like hell to keep back. They couldn’t just go— _he_ couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Shepard behind like this. She might be trying to contact him, trying to get picked up.  She might be hurt and need help.  He couldn’t just abandon her. Not after everything she’d done.

                Not after she already lost her life once, because she wouldn’t leave his stubborn ass behind.

                “Damn it.” He muttered, shifting in his seat to get away from Liara’s touch—it reminded him of when Shepard came to convince him to abandon ship four years ago. He lifted his hand to the console; it hovered with hesitance for a couple of seconds, before he finally complied and steered the ship away.

                The Crucible fired just as the _Normandy_ sped away; outside, the powerful beam swallowed everything in its path, blowing up Reapers, crashing ships. Below them, London was on fire.

                The thought of Shepard kept popping in Joker’s head, but there was nothing he could do. He had to stay focused on the road ahead; the beam was still on their tail—it was chasing them relentlessly. The console was beeping, warning lights were flashing and flickering all over—as the beam got nearer and nearer, the ship got more and more difficult to handle. All of the _Normandy’s_ systems were being influenced by the energy of the Crucible, and Joker tried maniacally to evade the beam. Yet he knew it was unavoidable; he could feel the ship rumbling beneath his feet, his seat vibrating and kicking, and every bump felt like his bones were breaking.

                He saw another warning flash in the corner of his eye—it meant the hull was damaged. Another one indicated fire—but Joker didn’t need to be told that. He could already smell the smoke. The ship was damaged somewhere near the cockpit—he couldn’t turn to look, but he could hear Liara and Samantha scrambling in the back, even though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

                The entire ship rattled like a child’s toy, as the beam finally consumed it, knocking it out of its path—and crashing it.

               

\--

 

                Joker overrode the airlock’s controls and limped out of the ship. He had a few cuts and bruises, maybe a couple fractured bones if the pain in his right arm was any indicator—but he was otherwise fine. He eyed the hull of the ship; it had taken quite the beating, but it could be fixed. At least everyone was safe.

                Well…

                Maybe not everyone.

                He looked at his surroundings. He wasn’t entirely sure what planet the _Normandy_ had crash landed on, as the scanners were kind of fucked, but the atmosphere was safe for them so it was fine for Joker. There was green and blue as far as the eye could see; the sky was bright and the clouds looked beautiful as the sun shone through them.

                 He exhaled slowly, tiredly. He was only thirty-two years old, but right now his body and soul felt so heavy, he might just as well be eighty.

                “Jeff… You know there was nothing you could do, right?” Liara’s voice came from behind him, soft and compassionate as always.

                Joker didn’t turn to face her. Images from the past were flashing in his head. Shepard dragging him out of the cockpit, shoving him into an escape pod, before a series of consecutive explosions blew her away from him, away from the pod and into space, to die a tormenting death. The next two years were hell for him; survivor’s guilt, depression, grief. When Shepard died, a part of him died with her. He was half the man he used to be.

                “She came back for me,” he just said, back still turned to Liara. “She died for me— _because_ of me. And now, I abandon her.” His tone, albeit scarily calm, betrayed anger and self-loathing.

                “You saved dozens of souls just now, Jeff,” Liara said quietly. “Shepard—that’s what she would have wanted. For her crew to be safe. You couldn’t have helped her. It breaks my heart too, but—”

                “Don’t.” Joker spun on his heel. His eyes were cold, his jaw tight. “Yanna—she can’t be—” He was trying so hard not to break down, but for once in his life there was no crass joke to crack, no sarcastic remark to make, no way to avoid talking about his feelings. “I failed her…. again. Fuck.” He buried his face in his hands, and Liara embraced him tightly, and it was the first time anyone from this ship saw Jeff Moreau cry.

               

**III. 2188, London, Earth**

 

                Joker burst into the hospital room with all the speed and aggression he could muster, followed but entirely unbothered by the nurse’s desperate “Sir, you’re not allowed!”. A doctor was looming over the bed, examining her patient, as a symphony of monotonous machine sounds echoed in the room.

                Joker approached hastily and the doctor took a step back, finally unblocking his view. His stomach dropped at the sight; he let his crutch fall to the floor with a thump as he took another step towards Shepard.

                Bandages covered her entire left arm and leg, and even the left side of her neck and face. He could see the burn scars creeping out on her cheek from underneath the gauze, spreading like the branches of a grim reminder of what Commander Shepard had gone through to save the universe.

                “Sir, you can’t be in here,” the nurse tried again.

                “Let him,” the doctor simply said and it was then that Joker finally looked at her. She was wearing a white coat that had the logo of the Alliance stitched over her chest. Her face was freshly scarred on one side and the left sleeve of her coat was hanging lifelessly. Joker dry-swallowed as he realized the woman was missing her entire left arm.

                Another casualty of this goddamn war, he assumed.

                “I’m Dr. Jones,” the woman introduced herself.

                “Jeff Moreau,” Joker said. “How is she?”

                They both gazed at Shepard’s unconscious body. It hurt Joker’s soul to see her like that. She looked so tired, yet eerily peaceful, as if she was content in just being asleep. He wondered if she was dreaming; if she was, Joker hoped with all his heart that it was a good, happy dream.

                “I don’t want to lie to you. The odds aren’t really in her favor,” Dr. Jones replied honestly. Joker’s jaw started to tremble slightly. “And if she does, there’s a good chance she’ll have brain damage. Her brain—hell, her entire body—has gone through significant trauma and shock.”

                “Then _what_ are you doing about it?!” Joker finally snapped; then, seeing Dr. Jones flinch at his raised tone, he drew a deep, sharp breath, recollecting himself. “I’m sorry, doctor. I didn’t mean to… I just…”

                “I’m sorry, Mr. Moreau. There’s really not much we can do other than continuously check her body’s reflexes and reactions to outside stimuli... and hope for the best.” The doctor knelt down, picking the man’s crutch from the floor and propping it up against the foot of the bed.

                Joker watched her absentmindedly, struggling to remain calm as her words replayed in his head like a morbid broken record, and Dr. Jones must’ve understood, because she kindly and discreetly excused herself, giving the man some alone time with the patient.

                He grabbed a chair and dragged it to Shepard’s side. Sinking in it, Joker sighed—but the sound that came out of his throat was more of a short, pained sob instead. He observed the woman quietly for a while. She was lying completely still; only her chest lightly rose and fell to the rhythm of her assisted breathing.

                He hesitantly outstretched his good arm towards her—his right one was in a sling—and started to stroke her hair. He felt odd, a little guilty even. He and Shepard had been friends for years, yet he never allowed himself to show her too much affection, because he thought he had to be professional at all times—even when it was just the two of them. It had been a long while since they last hugged, and he recalled with certainty that the last time they exchanged something as simple and pure as a kiss on the cheek, Joker was still a scrawny, pimply teen.

                His eyes fell on the nightstand by the other side of her bed. Some personal items were lying on top of it, including her dog tags, an old pocket watch he knew Yanna’s father had gifted to her many years ago, and—

                The ouroboros.

                Still shining like the day Joker gave it to her fifteen long years ago. Representing life through death, and creation through destruction. Renewal. Rebirth. The cycle of life, and the universe.

                He blinked as all his pent up tears finally found release.

                “Come on, Yanna,” he mumbled, pulling his shaky hand away from her hair and moving it down her arm. He squeezed tightly, feeling her warm, soft skin under his. “Don’t do this to me again,” he pled.

                It would take days, weeks of praying and pleading, but Yanna would eventually wake up—and when that time finally came, Joker would make sure they’d never lose each other again.


End file.
